


Teacher

by scarletrebel



Series: Commissions [2]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-16 20:24:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13061499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletrebel/pseuds/scarletrebel
Summary: This was a paid commission through my ko-fi for mrpinstripesuit on tumblr. They requested I write something for their Titan, Eve, interacting with Zavala and/or my own Titan, Eden. I did both.





	Teacher

When Eve meets Zavala at the Tower, she knows what he will ask.

She walks past the armed guards and towards her Vanguard Mentor. Now, she’s heard it said by enough people; Hawthorne, Hideo, passing civilians. There isn’t really a Vanguard, not anymore. Not if you think about it. If you think too much about the space between them and the agendas set after the War, you come to realise they’re less of a unit, now.  

But to Eve, none of that matters. Zavala will always be her Vanguard. No matter what disasters come, no matter how many Towers they have to build. For as long as the walls can be rebuilt, she will be there to watch them, and she will look to Zavala to guide her.  

She walks to his side, and places her hands on the rail in a symmetrical fashion. They watch the Traveler rebuild; its recovered shards floating elegantly above them. The Light in her warms at the sight.

“Do you still pray?” Zavala asks, soft.

“Indeed.” She hums, the lights behind her facial plate blinking into a smile. “Even more so.”

He hums back, shifting his stance so that he’s turned to face her.

“Have you regathered your… Former students, yet?”

She laughs on the breeze. “‘Former’ they are, Commander. The Red War took much from them, not just their Light. But they learned lessons in those months that even I couldn’t teach them.”

Zavala casts a look down, his mouth thinning into a line. He gathers his hands behind his back. “War is the most ruthless teacher of them all.”

She nods. “Some didn’t make it,” her voice is small, reverent. “The one’s that did haven’t taken the loss lightly. It’s made them stronger. I’m proud to call them Guardians, they will only excel.”

She knows how each of them died. Her students were far along in their training that they’d created only the deepest of bonds, ones the Legion took away from them in cold blood. She took it upon herself to find their resting places and make them just that; places of rest. They deserved so much more. So much that Eve couldn’t give them, things she didn’t get the chance to. Her fist clenches.

Zavala must notice, because his frown deepens; his shoulders shift forward. “I know they will. They had one of the best teachers.”

“Their Light won’t fade.” She says.

No matter how hard he tries, her Commander won’t be able to lift the burden. She anticipated the pain of loss all those years ago when he first asked her to train younger Guardians. Loss is just a part of this life, intrinsically for the immortal. She carries not only the knowledge, but the pain she foresaw as elegantly as she can – her faith, an unbreakable bond to get her through, each day at a time.

“Indeed,” he smiles at her, and his shoulders return upright. “I see it in many of the younger Guardians who survived the Red War. I’ve seen it in the fresh faces of those who see the Traveler for the first time. With new planets available to us, the edges of the map are becoming clearer. They will need someone to show them how to navigate them, to send our enemies running scared.”

She raises her chin. “You’re asking me to resume my teaching duties.”

“Think on it,” Zavala suggests. “We both know the toll loss can take. We’ve both lost… Many, to the Legion.”

“I’ve been thinking for long enough.” Eve says. “I’ll happily teach again.”

* * *

 “Oh. Just like that?”

“Yes.”

“Oh… Um, Eve?”

The Titan sat beside her looks apprehensive. Her dark brows furrow, her head tilting to the side in thought. The white hair follows it, thick and long.

“Have we not been friends long enough for you to speak your mind, Eden?”

Eden laughs at that, her warm smile stretching across her face. She looks down at the city from their hidden perch, their feet dangling in the breeze. Eden sighs, takes a breath, and speaks.

“Are you… Sure you’re ready for that? Because there’s a difference between acceptance and compartmentalising, and I’m worried you’re doing the latter.”

“There are young Guardians who need me, Eden. I’ll never truly be rid of the burden I carry, much like Zavala, or anyone who felt loss during the war. I’m not sure if I _can_ accept it. What I can do is continue to train those who need that perspective.”

“I don’t want you burning yourself out,” Eden places a hand over Eves. “We’ve all been through so much. I mean, that’s an understatement -- those scars will never fully heal. You can’t protect or prevent it from happening again, Eve. You know that.”

“I do. But those who come to this Tower not knowing what came before don’t.”

“And that’s what you want?” Eden’s voice is as soft as the wind. “To teach them? To prevent it from happening again? Eve, you can’t--”

“No,” Eve’s interruption carries no malice. She takes her other hand, the mechanism whirring like a hum, and places it over Eden’s. “Each of my students, I see their Light so brightly. When I pray, when I fight, when I protect everything that I hold dear. I won’t allow it to be snuffed out. I must carry it onto the next generation. I must be the catalyst that nurtures them into the Guardians they are meant to be. Regardless of prevention, or reverence. It’s my duty, Eden. That is my burden. And I carry it gladly.”

Eden’s face softens, and she laughs, a sigh through her nose.

“They’ll be the strongest Guardians around.”

Eve squeezes Eden’s hand.

“Yes, yes they will.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like it pin, and thanks again!


End file.
